


Sunset Rapids

by edenhazardsbutt



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Background Relationships, M/M, Theme Park AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:32:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenhazardsbutt/pseuds/edenhazardsbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergio Ramos doesn't necessarily have a lot going for him, and floats through life in a comfortably numb existence. Enter Fernando Torres, who in one summer changes all preconceived notions that Sergio has about life.<br/>theme park au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset Rapids

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess this a new theme park/ summer au, because really who doesn't love those.

A small house stood little ways away from the rocky beach; it was red wood with the back of the house facing the beach, a matching red wood patio, and stairs that led down to the rocky sand. A few miles in the distance were the boardwalk and theme park, incidentally where Sergio worked. The nearest house was in the opposite direction and higher up the rocky beach, only a five minute walk that somehow felt longer. That house belonged to Cristiano Ronaldo, and that was where Sergio spent most of his summer, lying in Cristiano’s bed or on his carpet, playing FIFA together on his Playstation, while listening to Cristiano moan about working at the theme park or listen to his stories about his latest conquest. It was also were Sergio longed to be at this moment as he took a large bite out his toast, his stepfather sitting silently across from him with his eyes trained on the television watching the morning news, his forehead scrunched up and his lips in a straight line. The usual sounds of a busy home were absent, although the steady hum of the dishwasher and the tick-tock of the clock were present.

Sergio got up and brought his plate to the counter where the toaster sat, intending to get some more toast, just as Iker strode into the kitchen to get himself breakfast. Iker passed his father with a smile as he grabbed himself an apple.

“Any developments?” He asked.

Sergio glared at him, lips downturned, from his place near the toaster. Iker worshipped his father so much it was sickening. Everything about Iker just screamed _fake_.

“Do you even care?” he shot at him with derision. Iker turned to look at him, returning his hate-filled glare. He didn’t seem very surprised by the animosity, but then again Sergio hadn’t expected him to be.

“Of course I care,” he returned. “I actually have an interest in things other than myself.”

“Oh really? What like hooking up with Sara Carbonero?”  

 “Sara who?” Sergio’s stepfather finally looked away from the news, instead focusing on Iker. Iker flushed scarlet, whether from embarrassment or rage, Sergio didn’t particularly care. He turned to his stepfather and smirked.

“Iker doesn’t even like her,” he continued conversationally. “He’s only even getting with her because she works at the theme park, and thinks that she’ll introduce him to Mystery Hottie.”

“Mystery Hottie.” His stepfather repeated.

“Isn’t that why you’re with her all day? Trying to catch a glimpse of your mystery lover working the water rides shirtless, you little creep?” Sergio leaned up against countertop, arms crossed and directing his gaze towards Iker. His fists were clenched, and his eye was twitching. Well, at least now Sergio knew it was rage.

“Shut the fuck up, Sergio.” He said.

“Oh, take me. Oh, oh, I want you.” Sergio teased with moaning noises. “Oh, it feels so good.”

“Fucking shut up, I swear.” Iker shouted at him, pulling a knife off the table and pointing it at him threateningly. Sergio’s stepfather stood up, ready to intervene, although he seemed confident that nothing would happen. Sergio didn’t react, but he eyed the knife with some caution.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Sergio asked disinterestedly.

Iker glared at him and he glared back at the knife, as if the sheer intensity of his gaze could make it burst into flames. This seemed like a rather good time for Sergio’s stepfather to intervene, because he turned off the television.

“Iker put the knife down, and Sergio— stop provoking your brother. Honestly, it’s a great thing that you two don’t go to the same school, because you’d set the place on fire.”

Sergio was defeated— with a furious glance at his stepfather he stomped back towards the table. “I wouldn’t mind setting him on fire.” He mumbled, jerking his head towards Iker, sitting down. Iker, who apparently could not stand being in the same room as him, stood up and walked out of the kitchen.

This didn’t seem to deter his stepfather at all, who reached for the remote, his job apparently over. However, a moment later he checked his watch and stood up abruptly.

“I have to go to work,” he said. He pulled on the jacket hanging off the back of his chair. “I’ll see you tonight. No more fighting, okay?” He brushed his hand across Sergio’s head, as Sergio stared hard at the table.

As soon as his stepfather was out of the door, Sergio sprinted upstairs and into his room. He threw himself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

His room, as always, was obsessively clean. His walls were white, and single poster of Real Madrid hung over his bed, the faces smiling down at him. There was no mess anywhere; in the corner lay his guitar, and his clothes were neatly folded in his drawers. Books were organized alphabetically on the shelf (courtesy of Cristiano— Sergio was not that compulsive). On his bedside table were a collection of pictures, though Sergio rarely tried to look at them. There was one of Iker and Sergio as kids, one of Sergio on his eleventh birthday, one of him and his stepfather, one of Sergio and Cristiano. And there was a gaping hole where the last one was: a picture of him and his mother. Though Sergio had long ago burned it, he still remembered every detail. The room was light and there was a Christmas tree behind them, and Sergio had been sitting on his mother’s lap smiling with apparent delight, his mother had an expression of equal joy, and her long chestnut hair, so similar to Sergio’s own, was falling over her shoulders.

Sergio could feel tears coming on, and he blinked them away. There was a sudden commotion from downstairs, and Sergio bolted upright, listening hard. Soon enough, he heard a “Hey Iker! Is Sergio here?”

And he lay back down, listening to Cristiano’s familiar footsteps thundering up the stairs to his room. He grabbed a pillow and threw it over his head as the door flew open.

“Guess what?” Cristiano asked delightedly.

Sergio only offered a groan in response. His bed bounced as Cristiano sat down. He grabbed the pillow and pulled it from Sergio’s face. Cristiano’s million megawatt smile was the first thing Sergio saw, followed by his perfectly styled hair. Sergio aimed a kick, but Cristiano pulled the pillow out of his reach.

“I’m captain of the team, now that Iker’s graduated.” Cristiano bounced up and down excitedly. His dark eyes were alight with joy.

Cristiano had been his best friend his whole life. That was probably the perks of being the only two houses near each other growing up. He was the only person Sergio would trust with his life; the only person that he almost always wanted to see. Sergio loved him, and he loved Sergio, and that was the end of it. He always loved Sergio.

Sergio smiled at him. “I’m happy for you, _hombre_.” He said simply.

Cristiano finally laid down next to him, and for a moment they were silent, both staring up at the ceiling.

“Where’s your dad?” he asked after a while.

“He’s not my dad, just Iker’s.” Sergio responded automatically, like he always did.

Cristiano turned his head to look at him. “Well,” he said. “He’s the only dad you’ve ever known.”

And they fall again into a companionable silence.

“He’s at work.” Sergio says finally, rolling over on top of Cristiano. And he moves down to kiss him.

Sergio’s not sure what to call this thing between him and Cris. It’s not attraction; he knows that, because they’re not into each other romantically in the slightest. It’s more of just a habit they fall into, something they do just because they can, because it’s familiar. They’re familiar. Sergio just needs something, needs to feel something once in a while. And Cristiano is more than happy to oblige, only because he’s a horny fuck. There’s no deep seeded emotional need as to why Cris does it, only that he thrives on intimacy, and who is he to say no to a clearly willing partner.

Their mouths melt comfortably against each other for a while, until Sergio pushes against Cristiano’s chest and sits up next to him.

Cris is looking up at him, skin flushed and lips swollen, his arms behind his head. “So what do you want to do?” He asks finally, sitting up as well.

“Dunno, we could go to your place.”

Cristiano’s face turned immediately stony. “No, not right now. _He’s_ there.”

_He_ wasotherwise known as Cristiano’s deadbeat drunk of a father. He would disappear for weeks or months at a time, only to show up completely wasted and trying to wheedle Cristiano’s mother out of money for more alcohol; money that she would hand away willingly, only to get him to leave. The few times that Sergio had met him, he had been nothing but rude and loud and just a general tax on resources and time.

“Well,” Sergio said mildly. “I guess that rules out your place.”

“We could just go in to work early.”

And so he and Cris decide to do just that. They end up walking instead of taking the car, just because they figure it’ll pass more time. Sergio doesn’t mind the walk; he finds it rather soothing in fact. And so by the time they reach the theme park, the afternoon sun is already high in the sky, and the temperature has gone slightly up. Their shirts stick to their backs, and their skin feels salty. And once they head inside, after checking in and changing into their uniforms, they go their separate ways, with Cris to the roller-coasters, and Sergio to the games.

The games area, Sergio thinks, is pretty slow, so they usually end up not having much to do. Xabi, the supervisor for the area, is still pretty strict about things, so they try and maintain a productive façade whenever he’s around, that all but goes to abandon as soon as he’s out of sight.

And so Sergio is looking forward to seeing Jesus, who works the ring toss booth with him, and is generally rather fun to have around and a good laugh. But he is instead greeted by the sight of someone who very tan, very blonde, very freckled, and is definitely not Jesus Navas. And Sergio doesn’t think he’s ever seen tall, blonde, and freckled around the park before.

And so as Sergio approaches, seemingly confused, the guy turns around and smiles at him, and its like Cristiano’s million megawatt smile, except it does _things_ to him.

And then the guy says “Hi, I’m Fernando. I’m working here for the summer” in this adorably nervous voice. And God, he’s just _hot._

And Sergio thinks he’s done for.


End file.
